Give me a hero, I'll write you a tragedy
by TricksterGabe
Summary: Sequel to I won the fight but I lost the war. What happens after the last shot is fired? After the last drop of blood is spilled? What happens when the hero is no longer the hero, but the enemy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N.  
** Since I lost my muse with the sequel to I won the fight but I lost the war, and when I look back at it now it is absolutely terrible, hate it. So I'm gonna try to write another sequel, in an entire new direction that I hope will turn out better than The Forsaken.

Give me a hero. (I'll write you a tragedy)

Chapter One.  
Pain and Misery, walk hand in hand.

" _Yeah, I wanted to play tough, thought I  
could do all this on my own_ _  
_ _But even Superwoman sometimes needed  
Superman's soul." Sia, Helium._

Isaac POV.

He charged forward as Scott fell to the ground, barely catching him before he hit the ground. He reached out with a shaking left hand and let his fingers skim around the edges of the bullet hole before they fluttered up the feel for a pulse he knew that they weren't going to find.

Then hell broke out.

He didn't hear any of what happen and if asked later, he wouldn't be able to say a thing; he closed himself off to the world around him and mourned his Pretty.

When the pressure inside him built up, he turned his head to the sky and howled his grief, misery and pain to everything and nothing, because his Pretty was dead and the world kept spinning, kept existing.

He snarled when a hand landed on his shoulder and he cuddled Scott- no, Scott's body – closer to himself and hid his face in his dead lovers hair, failing to get a sniff of the rapidly fading scent of his mate. His shoulders were shaking with held back sobs and he snarled when he hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's over Isaac, time to go home now," Peter said, his voice void of any and all emotion.

He just shook his head and tried to hide the sobs wrecking his body.

"Where did they go?" he whispered, for some reason, fearing that if he spoke louder, that he would wake Scott up.

"Back to the hell that they belong to," replied Peter, his voice making Isaac shiver.

He took a shaky breath and tried to get a hold of himself, thinking about what his father would do to him if he saw his son cry like he did not. He would get thrown in the freezer for it, beaten black and purple..

His next breath came out steady and calm

Peter POV.

He shot a brief glance behind him to the retreating pack, meeting Derek's eyes and nodded at Isaac and not turning his head back again.

He swallowed the lump in his throat again and blinked the tears from his eyes, he hadn't cried in a long time and while the people around him were weak, he needed to be strong.

He heard his nephew come closer and waited for him to speak.

"They are going home; Malia will see if she can find Stiles and tell him what happened, Perish will see if he can track the beast and Lydia will scream if anyone other dies."

He snorted, "And by then it will be too late."

Derek shook his head and nodded in Isaac's direction, a silent question for help and with both of their coaxing, they managed to get the young wolf to give Scott over to him and with one last long glance from Isaac, Derek pulled the pup with him and Peter knew with a sad thought that it would be the last he ever saw of the pack. He had a mission. Araya had said something before she had shot his pup, and he had every intention of finding out what.

With a heavy breath, he lifted Scott up and walked into the forest.

Derek POV.

He looked down at his hands as Melissa broke out in loud cries, unsure of what to do and what to say. What comfort could he bring after telling her that her son was dead?

"Where is he now?" the woman finally stammered out between the sobs.

His own breath hitched and he turned his head to look out the window as he answered.

"Peter took him. What he will do, I do not know, but he will get the end he deserve."

He looked back up in time to see her nod and lick her lips, and he was again amazed at how she handled it, of the strength that she possessed.

He spared a passing glance around the room, before his eyes landed on the woman again. His squeezed his hands together and ignored the way his next breath hitched. He felt like every time he saw Melissa, it was to tell her something had happened to her son.

It was truly heartbreaking.

He looked up when Melissa rose and just before she reached the stairs, she turned around, a sad smile gracing her face, her brown eyes watering.

"I assume you know where the door is?"

He stepped outside the door and fished his phone out of its pocket and hit dial., waiting with a racing heart for someone to pick up.

"Hallo?" a voice answered, unsure but firm.

"I need a favor."

He heard the long sigh over the line and began walking back to his car. He got seated before the other man finally answered.

"Find the Mexican hunters and end them," he growled, his eyes flashing red.

"What have you now done Hale? Played the bigger wolf?" the voice mocked him.

He clenched his free hand and tried to calm his breathing, losing his temper wasn't ideal right now.

"I told you about my beta, the blue eyed one. Well, Araya shot him, point blank." He snapped his mouth shut before he could say more, or beg for the other's help.

"The abused one?" Was all he got and Derek answered yes without thinking about it.

"You owe me Hale, you really owe me this time." He said and hangs up.

"I know, I know," he whispered to the empty line.

' _The world is closing in  
Did you really think that  
We could be like brothers'_

He opened the car door and tossed his phone in the back, not caring where it landed, he could always get a new one.

Peter POV.

He let the shovel rest up against a tree. His hands and arms were almost back from digging and his eyes were irritated from where he had been scrubbing them. He hadn't cried, not yet and he wouldn't until the battle was utterly and truly lost. When the time to count the bodies had arrived, when everything was over and they looked back and thought why they were the ones that survived? The ones that had done so much bad, why take the heroes when you could take the bad guys instead? He didn't understand and he didn't believe that he ever would.

He went down on his knees in front of the home made grave and planted both hands on the ground and leaned forward, pressing a brief kiss to the dark earth before rising on swift legs and walked in the other direction, forcing himself to not look back.

He stopped abruptly when he heard a howl and scented the air for signs of his nephew but frowned when he found none. Not a good sign.

The howl sounded again only this time, it was so much closer, so close that he should have been able to get a scent of whatever creature, natural or not, but there were nothing.

Wary he did a full body turn, careful not to move too fast and at the same time to not leave his back unprotected, any predator would go for the back.

"Derek," he tried warningly, "If this is you, it stopped being fun when you turned two," he said quietly as he kept turning around, leaving his claws out just in case it decided to attack.

He saw a flash of white to his left and moved so his front was to the creature, all while thinking, 'not Derek' and 'fuck'

He bared his teeth in a feral snarl when he saw the creature again. It was playing with him, but there were still no scent attached to it and it unnerved him more than he wanted to admit.

His head snapped up when he heard laughter not long from where he was and he knew immediately that the creature had turned its attention away from him.

'shit'

He ran but already before he was even close, the screams had filled the air in the forest and the smell of blood was so strong that he stumbled when he got close enough to see.

It looked like a slaughter house. He assumed that there had once been two or three people but it was hard to judge when everything was spread around the scene, it put even him in his earlier days to shame.

He leaned up against a tree and tried not to make a sound, he couldn't know if the creature was still around and it if it… he would certainly get to fight for his life.

Unknown POV.

 _It was all around him._

 _Fear_

 _Death_

 _The burning scent of blood_

 _The man, his scent_

 _Brother?_

 _Pack?_

 _Protector?_

 _Sounds pierced his ears._

 _He needed it to stop_

 _Stop making all those sounds_

 _He made them stop._

 **A/N  
** I seem to be so much better at writing Peter. What did you think? I honestly like this a lot more the other.  
Leave a review, flames or not, anything will be appreciated.


	2. Frenemy

Chapter two  
Frenemy.

" _What do you see when you look yourself  
in the mirror? Do you see your reflection starring back  
at you?  
Or do you see a stranger, someone you don't  
know, someone you didn't know you could be._

 _Or do you see something broken?"_

Peter POV.

He hurried up the stairs to the loft, his heart racing in his chest and he pulled the sliding door open, not even bothering to announce his presence the people inside.

Isaac was on the couch, his face closed off and his eyes dead. He jumped up when the door was slammed open but Peter paid him no attention, eyes darting around the room, seeking.

"Where's Derek?"

His eyes landed sharp on the pup and marched up to stand right in front of him, his pulse beating faster and faster and he could smell the younger wolfs fear…

Fuck.

"Isaac, do you know where Derek is?" he asked more carefully again, trying to make himself look a little less dangerous, a little less big.

The other shook his head and whispered from behind his hands, "He just left, didn't say anything," Isaac's breath hitched and he sat down beside him, waiting for him to continue. "I think he's going to try to track the Calaveras. At any cost," he finished.

Peter shook his head and cursed his nephew. Why did he always run off, how much would it take to get into his thick skull that he had a pack that needed him?

He rested his elbows on his knees and sighed. "Yesterday night when I was burying Scott at the house and walked away.. I was being followed, at first I thought it was Derek, trying to cheer me up in his own twisted way. But." He halted and blinked the tears away. I'm still not sure what it was, but from what I could see of it and the carnage it left, I would say a wolf."

"Carnage?" he heard Isaac whisper to his right.

"It killed two or three people, it was a mess, Perhaps a rouge wolf or something like that," he sighed and shook his head again. The loss of the pup was starting to set in and now this. It was too much.

He looked up when he felt a hand on his knee and saw Isaac looking at him with a concerned expression, a soft smile on his face, "I won't leave Peter. Derek may go after the hunters but we both know the truth and that's Derek's not coming back," Isaac sighed and looked away, "And if he is... then he won't be our Derek, not really." He heard the pup sigh and the scent of grief filled the air once more.

Unknown POV.

He lifted his head towards the sky and howled a long and mournful sound. He was hurting and he didn't know why, just that he was alone, cut off from something that he didn't remember.

He stopped and hung his head, licking himself around the mouth. There were still some dried blood but he didn't remember what had happened, just flashes and loud sounds

A bird flew from its nest in a tree and he let his eyes trace it, ears flicking around trying to catch and sound that may have scared the bird off, but they heard nothing.

A branch breaking from behind him, caused a snarl to rip itself out of his mouth and he carefully and without a sound stalked towards the sound, breathing in a scent that somehow stroked him as familiar and his next step faltered before picking up again.

Peter POV.

His left arm shot out in front of Isaac when the wind shifted and bought a new scent with it. He inhaled deeply and the corner of his mouth twisted, eager to stretch into a snarl.

"Wha-"

"Shut it," he snarled and pushed Isaac behind him, his claws growing out as tried to get a sight of the creature before it attacked.

A flash a white made Isaac flinch behind him and Peter dropped all pretenses and pushed the pup to the ground so he could protect him better. Isaac didn't say a thing.

"Come on," he mumbled, "Stop playing games with me."

"Peter," he heard Isaac say from behind him and he risked shooting him a glance and when he looked up again, the thing stood there, not even four meters away from him.

And what thing it was. It looked like a wolf, just so much bigger, white as new fallen snow and the bluest eyes Peter had ever seen in his entire life.

He couldn't help but take a step back, dragging Isaac with him, not once breaking eye contact with it because he had no doubt that the thing could easily outrun him and kill him without trouble.

It snarled when he moved and took a step forward, ears standing at attention and its focus at him.

"Isaac, RUN!" he yelled and when the creature tried to run Isaac down, he jumped on it.

Malia POV.

John, just tell me where Stiles is, please. We really need to speak with him." she begged the older man.

She had almost left as soon as she had arrived when she had seen how the older man looked. It was like he had aged decades since the last time she had seen him. But she hadn't, she had to know where Stiles was, even if the teen didn't care for his friend anymore, he still deserved to know he was dead.

She waited for his answer, looking around while she did. The house was a mess, old plates were spread around the kitchen and she could smell decaying food somewhere.

"He's not here anymore." It was said in a drawn out sigh.

Her attention was focused on the man again. "What do you mean he's not here anymore?" she didn't really want to force him to answer but she had to know.

"He left, took the car and left, didn't say anything, not even goodbye," the man sighed and took a swing from the bottle of whiskey she hadn't seen until now.

A big part of her wanted to shake the man, to demand answers, but she knew that John wasn't the one she was angry on. It was Stiles, who so readily threw his lifelong friendship with Scott away and made him hurt more than he was already hurting.

She bit back a snarl and gave the man one last glance before she left, slamming the door behind her.

She slammed the brakes on the car when she reached the forest and slammed her hands down on the dashboard and gave a muttered fuck when she made a small dent. She heaved a big sigh and looked skywards, just as a howl rang through the air, cutting whatever thought she was thinking off as she ran towards the sound, her clothing ripped apart as she shifted mid-step.

Peter POV.

The circled each other. He had blood running down his face and his right arm was useless, stopping to let it heal could mean his death and he at least wanted to make sure Isaac had made it far enough away; that the wolf wouldn't hunt him after it had killed him.

He growled at it, baring his teeth and fangs but it didn't seem to deter the animal, if anything, it got more eager to get closer to him.

It would have succeeded if in the same moment it jumped for his throat, another body, a smaller one, slammed into it and sending both animals crashing to the ground, teeth and claws making long gashes in each other's furs.

If later asked, he wouldn't have been able to say for how long the fight lasted but it ended when the wolf fled the scene, leaving what he could now see was a coyote, a panting and bleeding mess as it directed its too blue eyes at him.

Unknown POV.

He stumbled through the forest. He hadn't seen the little annoying thing come, and it had cost him. He shook his big head and gave a small howl, calling for a pack that he didn't have. When he received no answer he huffed and disappeared into the deeper part of the forest.

He roamed till the light disappeared and the moon came up, continuing until his legs refused to carry him and then collapsed under him, sending him crashing down on the hard and cold ground and the last thing he saw, was a man shaking his head and then everything went black.

Malia POV.

She made a move to run after the wolf but when she looked up again, Peter stood in her way, a firm shake of his head, let her know that she was going nowhere.

She moved to take a step but stumbled when pain shot through her leg, causing her to crash to the forest ground before she looked up at Peter. The older man looked unimpressed at her and shook his head.

"We can't go for him now, he's wounded and it will make him even more dangerous than he was before.

She shifted and in a childish display of frustration, she hit the ground before asking, "What is he?"

Peter looked sadly in the direction the wolf had run in, before he returned his attention to her. "He's a feral, a werewolf that's gone feral, lost in anger and the urge to kill. Anything with a pulse is his worst enemy, he lives and breathes for the next kill. It would be considered a mercy to kill him."

"That's what you are going to do? Kill him?" she asked.

Peter nodded, "If I can get close enough."


End file.
